pretty metal faces
concealing war wounds
metal masks for the war cripples
it is you,
the man without a mouth
without eyes to see
it is me,
the prostitute
with jaundiced skin
and beautiful blank eyes
that festers
and palpitates
underground.
you are my son!
and my father!
my christ!
my demon!
we are the dead on leave
apparently,
jesus saves
but not the paramedics here
[my heart is seizing
searing, my head crackling
in response to
you].
chill and dirty white
the dawn spreads its legs,
to us
[watch accuse to sex].
you are my vulnerable moment
fleshy and sensitive
as a newborns head
you beautiful man
metal mask for you,
war cripple,
pretty metal faces
[you are my son
my father
my christ
my demon].
miles and miles of white crosses
they could have been jews ...
the mask of a king
[as all of your men]
with lolling heads,
trench eyes
skull
clean and polished
a soldier's head
[you are
my son].
don't forget barbed wire
don't forget the ribs, the rapes
do not smoke them in your pipe
if you forget
my insanity, my pretty face
all is in vain.
Adding your comment:
Keep writing, dear. Miss you something fierce. <3
